Lunch proposal Ruth & Harry SPOOKS
by Fly-on-the-candle
Summary: My first ever attempt at writing fanfic, spooks or otherwise. This is a short piece to get me into the swing of things, comments and criticisms welcome. Also prompts on how the story should develop are welcomed too!
1. Chapter 1

Ruth looked at Harry through the windowed wall of his office. He was talking on the telephone and looked stern and concerned. But she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't show it in his voice, he would seem confident and sure. She looked back down at the open file on her desk, there was always some dire emergency which kept them separated through their work.

One of the gang came over to her desk and handed her a piece of paper. She looked it over and read it within a few seconds, in this game a few minutes could be a few too long, so it was best to speed read everything given and act immediately, which is what she did.

She stood up and walked relatively fast to Harry's office, and threw open the door. Just as she had imagined he was sounding confident as he spoke, but his face showed signs of great unease. He hung up the phone as she slid the piece of paper in front of him. He picked it up and stared at it for what seemed like a blink of an eye, and then he spoke:

"Lunch, today, 1 o'clock. What do you think?"

'This is hardly the time to discuss it. Do you know what this means?' replied Ruth, indicating the paper.

"Of course I do. As much as it would appear I got this job based on my looks," joked Harry, "I also have some intelligence. It only means that for yet another day our jobs are secure and some nut job is planning to bomb one of the most important cities in the Western world. So. Dinner?"

Ruth was flummoxed. It wasn't as if this was the first time Harry had invited her out for a meal, but in this uncertain time she couldn't be sure whether it was for business or pleasure. She reasoned the only way to find out would be to show up.

"1 o'clock. Should I call the home secretary?"

"I doubt the home secretary would be interested in our eating habits." Harry stated.

'I meant about this.' said Ruth, taking the paper back from Harry.

"I'm well aware what you meant Ruth, I thought I was making a joke. Obviously I was mistaken. Hold off on the Home Secretary until we've got a handle on the situation. Gather the troops, conference room in three minutes."

… … … … … … … … … … Ruth participated at the meeting in full. She led the presentation, translated, explained... everything she was being paid to do. But her mind was far from on the job. They would stop this terrorist threat as they did every week, and another would pop up and take his place. That's just the way the world worked.

But this meal with Harry… how would that work? Was this just a softener for sending her back to GCHQ? She knew she was the best researcher in section D, heck, she was the best researcher MI5 had.

She convinced herself that this was not a lunch to end her position. And then she did what needed to be done with the job, and tried not to keep her eye on the clock for the remaining three hours 'til one o'clock.

… … … … … … … … …

Harry was not confused, nor was he under the influence of any substance. The whisky he'd had when he saw the home secretary didn't count. That was just part of the job. It was expected of him to indulge now and again, and he welcomed it with vigour and a sensible mind – a curse he'd had from childhood.

But though he wasn't confused, he was nervous. What if Ruth decided not to show up, as she had last time? What if he was called to see the PM suddenly? This was an uncertain time after all, and this latest threat was very real. They still had limited intel, and time was running out.

But he soon quietened these worries away from the conscious mind.

The 'phone rang. Harry spoke a few serious words in a hurry, and then cursed to himself.

Ruth would understand, she was forgiving and kind, and she didn't know the importance of this lunch.

… … … … … … … … …

"Harry." Spoke Ruth.

"About lunch…" Started Harry.

There was a moment of silence, as each looked embarrassedly at the other, and then Harry spoke,

"I have to see the PM. I didn't think I would, but this threat is becoming serious and he needs to be briefed by me personally. But we will go to lunch, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. Yes, of course, the PM. Obviously, go, go."

As Ruth watched Harry go through the pods, she was reminded of a line from a book she'd read as a child. Her mind altered it slightly, letting her feelings come to the surface in the privacy of her mind: 'Lunch yesterday, and lunch tomorrow, but never lunch today…'


	2. Chapter 2

Harry sat at a square table, brushing lint idly off the white table cloth. He was nervous. But at least he could be sure of his choice of eateries. It was their favourite restaurant, perfect in location quite apart from the superb food. It was close enough to the Grid that in an emergency they could be back within ten minutes, but it was far enough away that for a short time they could make attempts at forgetting about 'work' for a while. Though in reality, work was life to both of them, and never far from their minds.

Harry looked at his watch. He had come early, a surprisingly slow day on the Grid made everyone slightly jumpy, waiting for the bomber or terrorist they had overlooked to strike. It made him uneasy to be in that situation for long, and so he had taken Ruth's advice…

Was it really a year ago since they took that walk down past the little river flowing through a secluded village, seemingly in the middle of nowhere?

They had lost a battle that day, and Ruth had noted that though the battle was lost, the war continues every day, and must be fought with equal strength. They must not be allowed to win, at any cost. But then the mood had changed, and she had looked Harry in the eye, biting back the critical information she needed to depart, before finally looking to her feet and speaking it. 'We must not let them win. We have to fight, we have to keep trying, and we have to live our life whilst we can.'

Harry checked his watch again; it was ten minutes to one o'clock. He fumbled in his left jacket pocket for the small box he had been keeping hold of since a week after that riverside talk. Was it the right time now? It had to be. He felt so sure. Ruth was sending out confusing signals though, and the demands of the job were interfering with their lives so that timings had to be carefully constructed. One couldn't hope for romance with a job like this.

The tie hanging loosely against Harry's shirt was tweaked slightly and then allowed to resume its business. He had chosen a blue tie, in the hope that the colour might add a more jovial tone to the lunch. It was always so serious with nerves exchanging pleasantries and not much more progress. But this time it would be different.

Ruth showed up at fifteen seconds to one. Harry noticed quite by habit. She looked flustered, but that was nothing unusual for her. Harry stood up as she approached the table and there was an awkward moment when he went for a kiss and Ruth turned it into a brief hug before struggling with her scarf.

Harry sat down again and studied the menu, though he had memorised it the first time he had been to the restaurant. Ruth managed to disengage her coat and scarf and sat down opposite him and poured herself a glass of water from the jug on the table.

'You look nice. You should wear a dress more often.' Began Harry.

'Thank you. So do you. Look nice I mean. Not wear a dress.' Replied Ruth.

'I should certainly hope not.' Harry said with a smile.

'Have you ordered yet?'

'No, I was waiting for you, though I did order a bread basket which should be along soon.'

'Have you been here long then?'

'Not really. I just thought I'd take a walk and by the time I realised where I was it made more sense to come directly here.'

'I love going for walks in the countryside, with all that fresh air around, but it's different in the city.' Ruth stated.

'Perhaps one day we could go for a walk in the countryside?' Suggested Harry.

Ruth looked flustered again, but readily agreed. A few seconds later the waiter arrived with the bread basket and a complimentary bottle of wine. 'On the house,' he had said 'because you are such a lovely couple!'

The ice which had been breaking was suddenly re-frozen. Embarrassment spread across the table and leaked out into the rest of the room.

They both lowered their heads, before Harry decided to try and change the atmosphere.

'Would you like some bread?' He enquired.

Ruth took a piece of crusty baguette, and thanked him. She started to butter the bread, and then proceeded in cutting it into smaller slices. She took a bite, it was still warm and delicious, and the familiarity seemed to relax her slightly.

Soon, another waiter came and took their orders. They settled a bit more, and started to chat about that morning's latest news.

As they were finishing their main course, Harry's 'phone rang. It was the Grid. He looked at Ruth, who seemed to nod her head without moving it. He answered the 'phone.

'I told you I was not to be disturbed unless it's an emergency you accept you are incapable of averting.' He stated, rather harsher than he usually would.

'Yes Sir. It is…'

Harry listened without moving a muscle on his face, for what seemed like forever to him, but was only perceived as a few seconds by Ruth. He lowered the 'phone, and explained as much as was necessary.

Ruth immediately stood up and collected her things. Harry was already by her seat before she had a chance to look up again.

When she did look up, coat and scarf in arms, she saw that Harry was taking his hand out of his right pocket.

'Harry, I...' Stuttered Ruth.

"Ruth, please. I didn't want to do it like this, so I hope you understand."

Harry proffered the box to Ruth, who took it in her small hands. Her eyes were glued to the small box, so she did not notice the look of anguish on Harry's face as she opened it.

'Oh. It's a broach. I mean, thank you, it's lovely. I love it.' Ruth yammered.

"I got it that day… when we went for that walk and you said some things I needed to hear and have never forgotten."

'It was an emotional day. I'm not sure even my words could be trusted.' Replied Ruth. And then…

'Not that I'm untrustworthy, and particular not about that case. I was honest entirely and did my job as expected. Beyond the expected on occasion…'

"I understood you to begin with, but thank you for that elaboration." Harry rushed.

"Do you think we should be heading back to the Grid?"Harry queried almost sarcastically.

'Yes, of course.' Said Ruth, who had already been putting on her coat.

Harry noticed that the broach had already been fixed to the lapel. They hurried out of the restaurant, and returned to the Grid. Both feeling content, alarmed, and a little bit disappointed.


	3. Chapter 3

Ruth sat on her sofa, in her cottage. She was considering the meaning of the broach Harry had given her. Was it just an item of jewellery? Was it something more than that? It felt like it had been a consolation prize, but she couldn't be sure of Harry's thoughts and motivations.

Perhaps, she thought to herself, marriage was only something that she thought about. He was in a position of high authority; could he really afford a social or personal life?

She looked up suddenly, her thoughts broken by a sound coming from the kitchen. She knew it would just be her cat getting up to mischief but she went to check anyway.

The hallway was dark, she hadn't bothered to put on the light when she came in. She needed the dark to make it cosy and safe, but now she was regretting it.

Ruth arrived at the kitchen door, as a hand was roughly shoved against her face. She felt cloth and smelled the distinctive odour of chloroform. The world went dark, slowly, as she wasted precious energy struggling in vain.

Light fell on the garden wall, where Ruth's cat was sat, looking in at the disturbing scene. It could do nothing to help, even if it understood what was going on, and later, when her disappearance was noticed, it could do nothing to aid the search. The cat licked itself, and then fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The True Athletes gathered in the basement of a moulding wreck. It had been a house turned into a music studio once, but time had worn it away and all that remained were the soundproof glass in the windows. It was the perfect place to keep a hostage.

They looked at one another in satisfaction. The plan had gone without a hitch. Ruth Evershed was in their custody, and they had the attention of Harry Pierce.

Ruth's mobile lay on an old metal table, rusting away in the basement of the house. Not long ago it had flashed up an alert of some kind. He was checking Ruth's whereabouts. One of the True Athletes had more thoughts than some, and wondered why Harry would waste time on such things when he had been given all the information he needed. The others just laughed.

But it was still early days in their overall plan, and taking Ruth had been the easy part…

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Ruth opened her eyes, and saw what she had feared she would - four blank walls, and one closed door. It didn't take a while for her to remember what had happened as she had expected, but rather she immediately recalled the hand grabbing her, and then the only thing she had experienced - darkness.

Now she took a proper look around. The walls weren't white as she had previously thought, but instead a sort of yellowed white. The colour that only years of smoke could produce. Now that her senses were working again, she could smell the faint odour of old smoke, but it had been a while since it had been recent.

She did a mental check of her body, it was all present and intact, but she was hostaged to a length of chain, connected to an old disused radiator. There was enough chain for her to stand up, clumsily at first, but she gathered her strength and her balance returned. She inspected her 'cell'.

There was one window in the room, and closer inspection revealed that it had been newspapered over before being badly boarded off. The light she was seeing by was faint, but it was enough. Daylight. That must mean that she had been here (wherever 'here' was) all night. But that was good, it meant that time had passed... time in which she would have been missed.

This thought gave her hope. Hope that a rescue party would be sent soon. Hope that back on the Grid, the most qualified of people were being gathered to examine the evidence left behind, if any had been, and were starting to unravel the facts that would (hopefully) lead to her discovery.

Ruth listened hard, but could hear nothing except her own breathing. She was breathing normally, much to her surprise, and this seemed to calm her. There was no need for alarm just yet. Yes, she thought to herself, she was trapped, but she was in no immediate danger.

She tried to walk over to the door, but the chain restricted the distance she could travel, and it was fully extended when she was still four feet from the wooden door. She sat back down; there was no need for her to use up all her energy just yet. It may be needed later.

The door was wooden, and though she couldn't get a closer look at it, she could see that the paint was peeling off it. Ruth surmised that she was in an abandoned house, fully abandoned by the (lack of) sound of it. She couldn't be certain of course, but she was willing to bet that even if she somehow managed to free herself of her restraints, the door would be locked.

As this thought crept into her conscious mind, Ruth's heart sank, and so did her shoulders, causing her to move position entirely, and as a result, the chain she was attached to chinked loudly against the floorboards.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Above their heads, The True Athletes heard a chain clunk to the floor.

'So', thought all four of them, 'it begins.'

There was no squabble over who would attend the 'bargaining chip'. Roles had been dished out long ago, and everyone knew their place.

The tallest of the group looked at the ceiling, which was only a few inches above his head, and sighed.

He picked up a few items, and disappeared up the dark stairs.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Just as she was trying to decide which plan of action to attempt to carry out, she heard a sound from somewhere inside the house. It sounded like footsteps, slowly walking up uncovered wooden stairs. There was a creaking as the footsteps grew louder, and stopped outside the door of her cell. Ruth presumed the owner of the footsteps was listening, trying to make out if she had come round yet or not. She tried to make no sound, to buy herself some more time to come up with an escape plan, though the pessimist in her knew there would be no escape that she could attempt just yet, and the noise of the chain had surely inspired the footsteps.

The door was opened slowly. Years without use had rendered it clumsy and it stuck slightly against the doorframe as it creaked open. As if to add insult to injury, despite the situation Ruth noticed that it had not been locked. The realisation that she had possibly just missed her best chance for escape was not lost on her, but was not useful either.

Now Ruth looked up, the door was halfway open and a silhouette stood before her. The breathing was low - a man's breath, coming from about six feet off the floor, making her 'guard' well over six foot tall. He - if indeed it was a he (and this was seemingly more likely) - was bathed in shadow, and although the room she was in was dank and darkened, the hallway or space beyond the open door was darker still. This provided perfect cover for her taker to hide with ease, whilst observing her in full.

Ruth felt suddenly naked, though none of her clothes had been removed. She didn't know whether to talk, shout out, or stay silent. In the end she just glared at where she approximated a face to be.

Ordinarily she would have tried to talk her way out of the situation, but something made her pause. It was subtle at first, which is why she hadn't recognised it, but as the figure pushed the door open further still, the smell had finally reached Ruth's nose in full. Once smelt properly it was unmistakable. It was blood. And it was undeniably fresh.

Ruth heard a scream. It sent a chill down her spine, and it was quite a few seconds before she realised it had come from herself.

She didn't even notice as the figure walked into the room, closing the door behind them, and wielding a hand holding cloth, that was once more clamped over Ruth's nose and mouth, before darkness filled her world for a second time.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry got to the Grid early that day. He sat in his office, staring at his email inbox.

"**Ruth Evershed is in the care of The True Athletes. There are three bombs hidden around London. We have the only detonators and the only way of disabling them. If you want to save lives, do nothing and await further instruction."**

Harry jerked back from his desk, to better see the rest of the Grid. It was true that Ruth wasn't at her station, but he couldn't assume anything. It was still early and there could be a multitude of reasons for why she wasn't at work. For one thing she wasn't due to arrive for another seven minutes, but this was Ruth, she was always early.

He decided he couldn't do anything until he had assessed Ruth's whereabouts. He reached for his phone, and dialled her home 'phone number. It rang out. He dialled her mobile number. It went straight to voicemail.

Ten minutes later, Ruth was still absent and Harry was starting to take the threat seriously.

He sent a Red Flash to Ruth's phone, though he knew in his heart of hearts that in ten minutes time her absence would be continual. Red Flash's were generally only used for field agents, but whether she knew it or not, and liked it or not, she was now working in the field.

He gathered his thoughts for a team meeting, which he would lead himself. A terrorist had issued a threat against London, but that happened nearly every day. Somehow though, Harry knew that this threat was different, they had gone after Ruth. That had to be personal somehow. With no sign of Ruth and no word sent, his nerves were almost humming audibly.

Thirty minutes later the team, minus Ruth, were assembled in the meeting room.

"Shouldn't Ruth and Adam be here?" Someone piped up. Harry wanted to reprimand them for their lazy approach to what could have been an intelligent contribution.

He was still thinking of a reply that would be fair when the doors opened and their team leader came into the room, shaking his head once towards Harry.

Ah yes, Adam, one of his brightest and best, but the news he brought was not good. Harry had sent Adam over to Ruth's cottage to look for her when she did not respond to the Red Flash. He needed the details, and it was about time the team learned the gravity of the situation.

He sat down, to better gather his thoughts in his hands.

"Adam... would you bring us all up to speed?" Harry sighed.

Adam gave Harry a quick, surprised glance, but hid it quickly and cleared his throat.

"OK, listen up. This morning we received a threat against London, sent by a group calling themselves The True Athletes, boasting that they had taken Ruth. I've just been to her house… Somebody broke a window in Ruth's kitchen. It could have been her cat, it could have been Ruth herself. All we know is that today Ruth didn't show up for work, nor did she respond to a Red Flash..."

"Did they really take Ruth?" Asked Sam, alarmed at last.

"We can't know for sure yet, but it'll be your job to answer that. Find out everything you can about this group. They claim three bombs are located around London… We need to know who they are and what they want…You know the sort of stuff." Adam replied directly.

"Zaf, you and I are going back to Ruth's house to look for further leads. Malcolm, do your techy thing, try to locate Ruth's 'phone - it's still missing. We meet again in one hour."

As the team filed out of the room, Harry found his gaze drifting over towards Ruth's empty station. He went back to his office, and tried to keep busy.


	6. Chapter 6

Ruth opened her eyes - something which was becoming more and more scary.

She was still in the same smoke tarnished room. She remembered in an instant her last thoughts before the darkness had once more been pressed upon her. She stifled another scream with her hand.

Tears were welling up in her eyes, but she forced herself to look past the watery blur and noticed the room had changed in one small way.

Beside her, on a battered old tray was a glass of what was presumably fresh water in third world countries, and a moulding crust of bread. A tiny attempt at humane keeping of hostages, right out of a sadistic kidnapper's handbook she thought.

Despite her situation, the 'meal' was not appetising enough to Ruth for her to try any of it.

She listened carefully, but just as last time, she could hear no sound. She put her ear to the floorboards, and after what seemed like an eternity she heard a dull thumping sound, followed by a low moan.

She scurried back against the radiator, and tried to make sense of the situation.

Her kidnappers had chosen her specifically. They had found out where she lived and how to get in. Though as for the latter they hadn't bothered about tactics beyond entry. She hoped this meant that they had slipped up in some way and would leave a trace. A glimmer of hope entered her mind.

She tried to work out what time it was. Her watch had been put in for repairs just last week. She cursed the timing. But even a watch couldn't tell her what day it was. Had she been out cold for a few hours or an entire day?

The light falling into the room was dimmer now. She guessed at early evening, though it could have been early morning. She felt groggy now. And sat trying to gather her thoughts.

She wished that she was wearing her coat, not for the cold, for the house was surprisingly warm, but for the brooch that Harry had given her. It could have been used to pick the lock on the chain somehow, but it was back in her cosy cottage.

These thoughts led Ruth to places she was scared she would never end up. Would she ever have a proper meal with Harry? Would she even ever see him again? But of course she would. He would move Heaven and Earth to save her, she knew it. But until that time, all she could do was wait and try to gain as much information as possible.

She put her ear to the ground again, and again heard sounds that her mind tried not to guess at. But this time there was no moan. Whoever was on the receiving end of whatever was going on was no longer responding…


	7. Chapter 7

The True Athletes were becoming cocky. They had got their hostage, planted a few bombs, and as far as they knew, had left no trace.

A computer beeped somewhere in a dark recess. A voice called out to the room in general.

"They're trying to trace the email. Don't worry, they won't succeed."

"Good. Keep us updated." Replied a voice with a hint of leadership in it.

The recordings of last week's boxing match had been cruel but they deemed it necessary. One of them thought the pigs blood was going too far, but it was decided by the group that instilling fear would reduce the chance of escape. After all, who would try to escape from torturers?

The same one, with a bit of intelligence although not leadership qualities, thought it would only encourage escape...but he kept the thoughts to himself.

The next stage of the plan would be tricky. But they were all in agreement. Tonight, the night after the kidnap, they would once more drug the hostage and transport her to the Olympic Stadium, where the bombs were ready to be hooked up to her.

They had lied slightly in their email, the bombs were all stationed around the Olympic Stadium, a couple at the main entrances, rigged to timers, and one waiting for Ruth, armed with a detonator and back up timer.

They knew that MI5 would waste precious time on background legwork, trying to discover their weaknesses, so they had created false websites with some story or other. It hadn't taken long for Techy to set up.

Now they sat around in the basement, going over the details.

"The van is ready. It's got false plates and blacked out windows. No trouble there. It'll be dumped at the first opportunity of course. It might be hard getting close to the Hostage for the third time, she's bound to be wary by now, but it should be manageable. Once she's out we'll inject her to keep her out for longer, let's hope that MI5 are as clever as their reputation suggests." Said the Leader.

'What if they don't arrive in time and someone else finds her and calls the police?' Queried her Minder.

"Then the message will get back to them and they will live with the fact it wasn't them who found her..?" Answered Techy.

'No. The recording we're going to leave will direct anyone to call Harry Pierce directly. I wish you blockheads would remember the plan. This isn't a trip to the shops we're arranging. There are serious consequences if we screw this up.' Barked the Leader.

The other two were silent. Their part of the plan was largely completed now. They were just caught up in the process. Techy still had to monitor MI5's progress on tracking them down, without alerting them to his actions, but it was hardly rocket science, not for him at least.

He decided that this would be his last involvement with the group. Not all of their actions sat right with him. But there was no time for those thoughts. He went back to looking at the computer screens around him...

Minder was quite happy with his role, which he saw as looking after the Hostage, not keeping her against her will. He had just enough brains to understand the situation, but not enough to question the ethics. He rolled up a cigarette and lit it with satisfaction.

Leader wasn't sure about his men, but he had no choice now. He'd kill them when the job was over, provided they did what he asked in the meantime. He tugged at his jeans and felt the gun cold against his skin. It was just for insurance but the power was making him quite dizzy and unnaturally irritable.

He put his hands on his neck. Harry Pierce was going to pay for what he did. That thought settled Leader, and he smiled a crooked smile to himself in the gloom.

After a while, a distant clock struck eleven o'clock. It was dark and cloudy out, perfect cover for their mission.

Twenty minutes later, the abandoned house was deserted once more.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry's mood was changeable, and the team learnt quickly not to take it too personally. Of course this was personal, for him at least, and to a lesser extent to them all. They worked under stressful conditions with Ruth, some of them had been doing so for years. Co-workers were often as close as they came to friends. And of course they were encouraged to date each other, though none of them had considered this option with Ruth…except perhaps Harry?

He sat at his desk, busily trying to call in as many favours as he could justify, in order to speed up the search. But nobody really knew where to begin, and with so little leads left behind at the house, it was rather futile.

The team assembled in the meeting room, it was time for an update.

Sam led the first section of the meeting:

"The Truth Athletes. Who are they? Well that depends…" She started.

Harry interrupted quickly: 'Can we stop playing guessing games before we start and maybe you could just tell us?' He snapped.

Sam looked taken aback; she hadn't been expecting such a direct hit aimed at her. But she composed herself immediately. 'Yes. Sorry Harry.'

"What we know is that they claim to be a group who dislike the media attention the Olympic Games has had. There were a few red herrings thrown in to the websites, stuff about schools and youth centres, but they were all created fairly recently and made to look older. I think the Olympic stadium may be a target, of course we can't rule out the youth centres and schools angle, but their language used is far too grand to just be small time anti-sports fanatics. I think our best bet of finding Ruth lies somewhere in the Olympics 'arena'."

Harry shot her a scathing look for trying to be light-hearted. Sam sat down.

"Malcolm, where are we at with trying to trace the email?" Adam asked, deciding to take a more active part in the questioning before Harry completely desiccated the teams morale.

'Well… it was a very sophisticated system. The signal has been bounced around the world various times. It's impossible to trace. I think Sam's right. This level of expertise comes from someone very skilled, not small time. However, one thing's niggling away at me… Why would someone who has spent years of their life becoming adept with computer systems care so much about sports in the first place?'

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Go on.' He encouraged.

"Oh. Uhm. No, that was it. That was my thought in its entirety." Stumbled Malcolm.

"OK. Let's review the facts. They gave us their name. They knew we would be able to trace it so it's probably false. This whole sports angle doesn't sit right with me at all. What's their real motivation? They haven't given us any demands yet. It's still early but in cases of such high level hostage taking it's unusual. They were careful not to leave any traces behind, but they were clumsy enough to possibly break a window. What does all this mean?!" He looked around the room; he knew he was getting too emotionally involved himself now. He sat down.

"Thank you Adam. I suggest we continue doing as much work as possible whilst we wait for further instructions, or a motivation. Zaf, get down the to the Olympic stadium, talk to security guards, see if there's been any new members of staff. You know the drill." Said Harry bleakly. And with that, he stood up and left the meeting.

Harry went back to his office and sat at his desk. He found his hand reaching into his jacket pocket. He felt the smooth velvet of the small box. His thoughts were deep and complicated, but could be summed up fairly easily in one word: 'Ruth.'

A blink of the computer screen had his full attention instantly.

"Malcolm! Colin! Trace this email!" He shouted, though he knew what little good the traces had been so far.

There on his screen read the following:

"**The True Athletes' communique number two. Ruth Evershed is currently unharmed. Harry Pearce must immediately return to his home. No-one must go with him. We will be watching the house. A bomb will be detonated if Harry Pearce is not at home after an hour, and Ruth may not get off so lightly. End of message."**

Harry rang for a car to meet him downstairs in five minutes, and called Adam.

He explained the message quickly.

"You're not going to just go home are you? What if it's a trap? I mean, we don't even have proof of life yet…" Scoffed Adam and immediately regretted it.

Harry looked at him, was that anger or fear in his eyes though? Adam couldn't tell.

'I've got a feeling this is the only way we're going to discover what's really going on here.' Replied Harry in a level voice. 'Wait twenty minutes, then follow me. Park at the end of the road.'

"I should go with you, in case they've rigged the place or something.' Fought back Adam.

'No. They say they're watching and at this point we have to believe them. Wait out of sight.' Harry replied, before leaving the grid with haste.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Twenty minutes after Harry got home, he received a call from a withheld number, and using a voice synthesiser:

"There is a gun pointed at Ruth Evershed. Call off your guard dog." And then it hung up.

Harry phoned Adam and told him to return to the grid. He did so, grudgingly.

'Interesting.' Thought Harry. 'No mention of the bomb.'

He called the grid to update them and to direct Colin to run a trace on his phone, just in case. And then, he sat back in his chair, and silently took a sip of a stiff drink.


	9. Chapter 9

Techy didn't trust leader as far as he could throw him, which admittedly wasn't much. He hadn't mentioned the money ransom yet and Techy thought this was suspicious.

Why go to the effort of planting bombs and then not even ask for the money? And who was this Ruth person to him?

He had done his homework and found out about Ruth, but why would an MI5 agent interest Leader? These thoughts worried Techy.

Still, he had sent the email all the same as directed.

He was quite pleased that Leader was so preoccupied with this Harry guy to even bother checking their story. The websites were supposed to be focused on schools and youth centres, but Techy had deviated from the plan and included a sneaky bit about the Olympics.

He felt it necessary insurance, should anything go wrong. Besides, Leader wanted to confront this Harry person anyway, so he shouldn't mind if he was given a clue to speed up the process…

Leader was losing patience fast. Harry had done as he had asked, but not to the letter.

The problem was he couldn't carry out a threat. The other two bombs, the ones not attached to Ruth, would only create a scare. There wasn't enough power in them to properly cause any damage. However, he had killed Bomber once his job was completed.

Now he had no way of blowing the bombs. Bomber had still been in possession of the detonators when his body had been carefully disposed of some days earlier.

Leader cursed to himself. Well, he had the third detonator, and soon he would be on his own again.

The time was nearly upon him…

Leader called Techy and Minder to him.

"Well done fella's. The time is almost upon us. You've each done well. Now, however I have some bad news…"

The gun shot echoed out around the empty warehouse they were holed up in. Minder hadn't even seen it coming.

Leader wasn't sure if it was really fair to shoot Minder first, Techy would be sure to try an escape, but Minder would have easily overpowered Leader, whereas Techy didn't stand a chance.

As it happens, Techy only had a brief moment in which to consider his options, before his world went dark, never to be enlightened again.

Leader got rid of the bodies that night. Now the game was starting to get interesting.

He looked at his watch. It was five minutes to midnight. Anytime now an unsuspecting security guard would find Ruth (he had made sure to 'hide' her on the guard's beat) and raise the alarm.

His confrontation with Harry was almost here. He could almost taste the adrenaline as it soared through his body. He felt the cool metal of the gun against his skin once more, and was calmed. Leader needed to be focused for this meeting. He had waited long enough. Harry would pay for what he had done.

In the darkness, Leader made his way to a vantage point high above where Ruth was lying, still out cold. He hid carefully, and waited…


	10. Chapter 10

Ruth's body was cool to the touch, and it had taken every ounce of courage for Bill, the security guard, to reach out to the unconscious woman. Shallow breathing meant she was alive, but for how long, Bill didn't know.

A network of wires obscured most of her body, and a little red flashing light suggested that this was now an armed bomb.

Bill's training had been worth the money. He looked around for evidence, clues, and hiding people. He missed seeing Leader, but he honestly wasn't expecting to find anyone else. Still, something or someone must have triggered the light to flash when he went near…

He bent down once more, looking over his shoulder and all around him before he did so. Bill picked up a brown envelope and felt it. It was reasonably heavy, but it was a fifty-fifty chance of whether it would be safe or not. He held it up to the light in hands that were not shaking. Well, not shaking very much anyway.

There was writing on the envelope, typed it would appear:

"**To save this woman's life and prevent the bomb exploding, CALL HARRY PEARCE**."

Bill didn't know who Harry Pearce was. Could he be an official there at the Stadium? Was he someone in Parliament? Or was he just somebody connected to this unnamed woman?

Maybe there was a mobile phone in the envelope with his number in the address book? His curiosity got the better of him, and after doing a few checks on the envelope… he opened it.

Nothing happened. After a while, nothing continued to happen. Reassured, Bill tipped out the contents of the envelope into his hand. It was a handheld Dictaphone, like students use or maybe reporters. In fact, it could be used by anybody. It could belong to anybody.

With one finger that now seemed to have the shakes, Bill pressed the play button.

"_This message is for Harry Pearce of MI5. If you are not him, I suggest you contact him immediately. Use your initiative. No uniform police. (3 seconds silence) Harry! How good of you to join the party…"_

The voice was not a human voice, but rather a computer altered voice, so that certain words jarred against others or bled into them, but even though it was slightly unclear, the message was crystal and continued to echo around the empty Stadium for seemingly hours after it had been stopped.

No police, thought Bill. No, that's not what it had said was it? It said 'no uniform police'. Bill used his initiative as instructed and went to his mobile phone to call one of his connections on the police force. After that, he risked taking the woman's pulse, and then sat down, quite a distance away from the whole scene and waited.

… … … … … … … … … … .. .. … … … … … … … .. … …. … … ….

High above, in the darkest shadows, Leader got up and silently started to head for his desired place, the better to wait for Harry.

… … … … .. . … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

It was cold, it was dark and it was past midnight. But Zaf didn't take much notice of that. He was looking at every bit of debris along the stone corridors for any hint of Ruth. He soon spotted a light, distant but distinct from the darkness. He changed his course and slipped into the shadows for cover. It was probably just a security guard, but thoughts like that could very well be his last.

As he approached the scene, he had to stop himself from rushing towards Ruth, who was looking very pale now. Zaf scanned the area in a millisecond. There was a figure half hiding near the plastic seats. Zaf paused and then spoke in a soothing and non-confrontational tone:

"My name is John, and I'm an MI5 agent. Please take a step into the light and tell me your name." Said Zaf and wondered if he'd live to regret the order.

Bill took a step into the spot light that was illuminating the space between rows of seats.

'I'm Bill. I'm a security guard. Did Ian send you? Damn he's fast. She's alive but she's not going to survive out here much longer. There's a cassette. In a recorder. It's for Harry Pearce though. Can you get Harry Pearce?' Bill rambled.

He was no longer in the position of highest authority and he was starting to react to the situation, something which Zaf did not have the luxury of doing.

Zaf waited patiently whilst Bill told him everything, including the earlier beat and how he had come to find Ruth at approximately midnight. How he had checked she was alive despite the wires, and how the red light had started to flash. When he got to the part about the recording, he suddenly stopped.

'Look, I'm not sure this is meant for my ears, but you work for Harry Pearce you say? Maybe you should take a listen…'

Zaf took the recording and pressed play. After a few minutes the tape clicked to a stop. Zaf immediately got out his phone.

"Harry. It's John. I've found Ruth. She's alive, but barely. The Olympic Stadium. A security guard named Bill will join you at the South entrance. Something about this doesn't feel right. It's too easy… Yes Harry. I will do."

Zaf looked at Ruth and then at Bill.

'You're to go to the South entrance and wait for Harry. He'll know what to do. In the meantime I'm going to send all of your colleagues home, and I suggest you go home and try to forget what you have seen. We'll no doubt be in touch to get you to sign the secrecy act. Now, go. Wait twenty minutes, if he doesn't show up, get yourself out. Have you got another radio? Good, we'll stay in touch on these but don't use it unless you need to.'

Bill ran to the South entrance, and stood in a shadow waiting for this mysterious Harry Pearce. He kept his mind occupied by thinking up a story he would tell to his son the next day if he survived all of this…

Zaf made sure he was alone, and then bent down near Ruth, being careful not to touch anything. 'Ruth, it's Zaf, you're going to be ok, we're here now. Harry's on his way.'

Ruth didn't respond. Her unconscious state was total.

Zaf got out his phone again and called the Grid.

"Sam, get Adam, tell him to come to the Olympic Stadium South Entrance ASAP. Harry's on his way but I think this could be a trap. Ruth is here. Yes, she's fine, but unconscious and hooked up to a bomb. Have we learnt anything else about The True Athletes? What? Nothing? OK keep at it, call one of us the moment you find anything out."

And with that, Zaf went to rescue the guards who did not even know they could be in danger.


	11. Chapter 11

Zaf headed back to Ruth, carefully scanning all the dark corners for signs of movement, but there was none.

The security guards had been easy to get rid of, it was a cold night and a gruelling job, but only one had thought to 'phone their boss and run it past him. He had grudgingly agreed after speaking to Zaf, but only on the proviso that he be kept in the loop at all times. Zaf had no intention of relaying frequent updates, but he would send a message to let him know when the Stadium was safe again.

Zaf reached Ruth's still unconscious form, and tried to raise Bill on the radio.

There was no answer.

He tried again. The silence continued.

Zaf rang Harry's phone, only to find it was turned off.

He ran to the South Entrance, not sure of what to expect.

The door which Zaf had entered through was now closed and looked to be locked by some form of computerised security system.

Zaf shouted through the door and after a few minutes, heard a muffled shout:

"Zaf, it's Harry, let me in! Where's Ruth?" He sounded panicked. That wasn't good.

"Harry! I don't know how to open the door. It seems to be locked electronically. I'm going to go to the control booth again and see if I can find the door release. Is Bill with you?"

Harry's voice was no less anxious when he replied: "Who's Bill? Just hurry up and get this door open."

Zaf assumed that Bill had left when Harry arrived, and made his way with haste to the control booth – which he soon found out was locked against him, and dark inside. 'Damn. The last security guard to leave must have locked it', he thought. He tried to barge into it but the door stood firm, without even so much as a ripple. He looked around for something to knock the lock in with, but there wasn't so much as a fire extinguisher in sight.

The lights in the Stadium suddenly lit up, blinding Zaf temporarily. He tried to look into the control booth once more, but the glass was tinted from inside, and all he saw was his own reflection.

He looked tired, and worried. Zaf didn't like seeing his usually confident grinning face looking so serious, but these were serious times, and it should have been expected. At least it proved he was just as human as the rest of the population.

Zaf didn't dwell on these thoughts though, they were just a fleeting synapse fire as he ran back towards the locked entrance, and Harry.

Once he reached the South entrance, an electric buzz echoed around the Stadium. Shortly followed by a mechanical voice:

"_Harry! Harry's Lapdog! Welcome to the party, we're just getting started."_

The door opened, and in rushed Harry with a look of confusion matching Zaf's.

"_Now that we're all here…"_ said the synthesised voice, as the door closed behind Harry, _"…the party can commence. Your first party game of the evening is to find the clue left with a body, I believe your laptop has already had a sneak peak Harry. I will call again when you're ready."_

And with that, the voice and the humming noise disappeared.

Harry got to Ruth faster than Zaf would have thought possible for his age and build. He leant over the body and picked up the envelope and Dictaphone. He pressed play.

_Harry! How good of you to join the party. You have completed my first game, now for the second. Ruth Evershed is wired up to explosives, as your eyes will tell you. If you want to save her, you're going to have to make a choice. There are two more bombs planted around the Stadium. One will blow up an exit door only, which as of now will be your only way of exiting the building. Another is wired up to a security guard, I would provide his name but this is being pre-recorded. I will shortly be joining you, at least via the comms sysmtems to explain more. Show me a sign you understand this message, and then the fun will really start…" _

The tape wound to the end of the cassette reel, and clicked to a stop. Harry stood in the light and looked for a camera, there was one not five metres away, pointed directly at the scene he was trapped in.

Harry looked straight into the security camera and nodded.

The voice returned to the Stadium speakers.

"_Good. I'm glad you understand our little game. These are the rules. If you disarm one bomb, whichever it is, it will send a signal to the remaining two bombs to be detonated. You have a choice. You can rescue the security guard, Bill, and sacrifice Ruth and yourselves…You can save Ruth and kill poor innocent Bill, and kill yourselves anyway… Or you can sacrifice two lives for your own two lives, and get away unharmed, beside some possible emotional damage which I'm sure therapy would cure. To disarm the bomb, cut the red wire. There is a set of pliers under seat 34. You have thirty minutes. After that, all three bombs will be detonated. I'll be watching with interest."_

"Who are you? What do you want?" Shouted Harry into the camera, but got no reply.

Harry looked at Zaf, who silently stared back. Harry got out his 'phone to call the bomb squad, only to find his signal had been jammed. Zaf followed suit but got the same result.

"What are we going to do?" Zaf said anxiously.

"I don't know, but whatever it is it needs to be done fast. We're on our own in this one and we're against the clock." Harry replied, sounding more confidence than he actually was.

"Do you think we can trust whoever it is?" Asked Zaf.

"I don't know." Harry responded. "But we don't have much choice at this stage."

"_Tut, tut Harry! You only have… twenty eight minutes remaining. I'd doubt less and act more, but maybe you don't want to save anyone. In which case, feel free to do nothing. But if I get bored, I may have to think up a new game…" _

Harry and Zaf reacted. They both spoke at once, and then, Harry spoke.

"We need to find that security guard, if he's even here. Go and do a sweep of the building, as quickly as you can. I'm going to try and make sense of this wiring, and think, hard."

Zaf ran off, looking all around for signs of Bill, glad that he had already done two sweeps of the building that night and therefore knew his way around.

Once Zaf had gone, Harry knelt by Ruth's side and took her hand in his. He was half expecting an announcement to warn him away, but the rules were different now. The little red flashing light of the bomb continued flashing. Harry kissed Ruth's hand, wondering if he'd ever have the opportunity to again, and then purposefully, he stood up.


	12. Chapter 12

Adam and the rest of the gang were sitting in the meeting room. They had received a call from Zaf an hour ago, but since then the 'phone lines had been dead to Zaf or Harry.

Research had been slow, but eventually they had uncovered nothing. That is, there was no such group as The True Athletes, and the web pages were all falsified. But the bomb threats had to be treated as real, and Ruth was very really missing.

"That's it!" Shouted Adam. "I can't just sit here and wait for Harry and Zaf to be killed. Damn orders, I'm going to the Stadium!"

Sam hunched up inside herself slightly, intimidated by this show of aggression.

In fact, nobody there wanted to stand up to their team leader. And with that show of silence, Adam got up and left the grid.

. . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Leader was quite comfortable and happy in his little control booth. The tinted windows had been a thing of beauty, he'd never anticipated being able to spy on a worried MI5 agent, and it had come as somewhat of a bonus for him.

He lit a cigarette, well aware that it was unsafe, and caring not at all.

He pressed a button on the keyboard in front of him, and the computer monitor showing Zaf's progress down the corridors lit up. He pressed another button and another monitor, showing Harry standing still sprang into life.

Leader chuckled to himself. He knew this was serious revenge but it was also quite fun. It really was like being at a party. Just no party he had ever been to before. His plan was playing out exactly as intended.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The radio that Zaf had given Harry suddenly played static, followed by Zaf's voice.

"I've found Bill. The voice was right, he's rigged up the same as Ruth. What do we do?"

Harry turned his back to the camera. He was fairly sure that whoever it was had been lip-reading, as there was generally no sound captured in those types of cameras.

"I have a plan, it might not work but it's all I can think of. Have you anything sharp on you?"

A second later Zaf responded.

"I've got a flip knife. What are you thinking?"

Harry told his plan: "We cut both wires at the same time, detonating the third bomb. If it works, we should all be home unharmed. If it goes wrong… well, I don't see another option."

The radio was silent except for a few bursts of static.

Eventually, Zaf responded. "OK."

Zaf and Harry's heartbeats were both pounding faster than they ever had before, but they barely noticed them. They both found the red wire of each hostages' bomb, and on a very careful count of three, they cut the wire.

The ground trembled, the walls shook, and Zaf and Harry fell to the ground with ringing ears. There had been an explosion somewhere near the North Entrance.

The plan had worked.

There was only the ringing in their ears to listen to, and a distinct lack of the Voice.

After a bit of negotiation, Harry and Zaf unhooked Ruth and Bill respectively from their bombs. There was only one problem – they were both still unconscious.

Harry radioed Zaf again. "Meet me by the North Entrance, if you can, bring Bill, if not, try to hide him somewhere safe. Failing that, hope that the bastard who did this isn't still here."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . .

Adam reached the South entrance just as the North entrance blew up. He didn't hesitate before getting back in his car and driving round to the other side of the building. Besides, the South entrance looked impenetrable.

He waited for the smoke and dust to clear, and tentatively made his way to the wall. He stopped, still outside the wall, and quickly darted his head around the wall for a quick glance, before once more taking cover.

He saw Harry and Zaf approaching. Harry was carrying Ruth, and Zaf was half carrying, half dragging an unconscious security guard. In the shadows, between them and the exit, Adam had seen the outline of a man holding a gun aimed at head height.


	13. Chapter 13

Leader always had a backup plan, it's just he hadn't ever thought he would need to use this one. He would have killed his henchmen for making such a substandard trap, if he hadn't already.

He stood in the shadow, 'oh well' he thought. 'A bullet in the brain works just as well as a bomb.'

. . . . . .. . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .

Harry and Zaf were just about to approach the exit site when they heard a gun being cocked.

"I wouldn't move if I were you." said a voice, which was undeniably male, and not altered by any computer software. "Drop the bodies."

Harry motioned to Zaf to stay still, and they both put down their hostages.

"Good, now I have your full attention Harry, do tell me, do you recognise me?" Leader asked mockingly.

Harry thought a while, trying to encourage the niggling feeling of familiarity to make itself known to him. As soon as it did though, he regretted it.

"You can't be. You're dead! I killed you myself, I saw you die."

"So you don't deny that you killed David McBelan in cold blood then?" The shadow responded, with malice in his voice.

"Who are you?!" Demanded Harry.

"I am David McBelan. At your service, or should that be funeral? A word to the wise Harry, next time you set out to disappear someone, make sure you have the right brother. Tony was not like me, you see, he was just a kid caught up with the wrong crowd. My crowd. I was out of town, and he agreed to run an errand pretending to be me. It's one of the perks of being a twin. Or at least I thought it was. But then you and your team came in with guns blazing and didn't even stop to research whether or not your suspect was who he said he was, or if he had a brother." Shouted Leader.

Harry was shocked into silence. The wrong brother? How could that be? But here he was. He sounded the same.

McBelan stepped out of the shadow and into the light, gun firmly and steadily pointed at Harry's head.

"I would talk some more, but tonight hadn't really gone as planned, and I'm tired of party games. Any final words Harry?"

"I didn't know. You must understand, I didn't know." Harry stuttered.

McBelan moved as if to shoot.

A shot rang out, deafening Zaf once more. He looked round at Harry.

Harry was still standing, but he was shaking.

Zaf looked across to the shooter, or where he was expecting McBelan to be standing. Instead he saw the body of the late David McBelan, missing half of his brain matter.

Adam stepped into the rubble of the open doorway and grinned, lowering his gun as he did so.

. . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . ..

The next day, Harry visited Ruth in the hospital. She was conscious now, but still very drained and groggy.

"Ruth, I'm terribly sorry for what happened. How are you feeling?" Started Harry.

"I feel like I've been repeatedly drugged and wired up to a bomb for gods know how many days…" Replied Ruth, and then changed her tone. "But I'm ok, and Harry, I knew you'd come for me."

Harry's look of anguish said it all. But really, it didn't need to be said.

His 'phone beeped, alerting him of the latest threat to London or England.

"I have to go, but I'll come back tomorrow. We can have lunch together. I'll bring us some sandwiches, how about that?" He asked.

"That would be nice. Lunch. With you. Yes. Tomorrow then. I'll be here. Unless I get discharged, in which case we can still have lunch but…" stumbled Ruth.

"Tomorrow." Said Harry, simply.

And with that, Harry went back to the grid and Ruth dosed off to sleep, both of them doing so with a smile.


End file.
